


The Rings of Life

by lostinsnow



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Bisexual Character, Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Past Relationship(s), Past Violence, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 13:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinsnow/pseuds/lostinsnow
Summary: Jongdae was born into the oppressive land of Amenta, a world governed by the dictatorship known as the Dominion. Thrown into controlled poverty, servitude, and relentless discipline, Jongdae hasn't trusted anyone since the death of his former lover at the cruel hands of the Dominion. With the arrival of a strange foreigner from the warring planet of Pateras, will Jongdae be able to live and love again? Or will fear and violence conquer his life once again?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title, summary, and/or rating of this fic is subject to change at a later time. 
> 
> Thank you for your patronage :))

It always got a bit stormier than usual around this time. When the Three Rings all aligned, the occurrence only happening once a ring cycle. It was one of the most amazing times of the cycle, seeing the rings all lined up, beautiful colors of the intermixing gases lighting up the night sky.

When you could see the sky, of course.

The 78th of Sol, unfortunately, was not one of those nights.

Jongdae listened absently to the falling rain overhead, dulled eyes watching the city outside moving along busily. He watched the people cringing as they stepped out of buildings, outraged by the falling rain.

What he would give to feel the rain, they would never understand. Luxures never did understand.

Faintly, Jongdae could see Dominion soldiers being carried across the city in the shuttles that streaked the skyline, thick wires holding the large cars. There had been more and more soldiers in the streets recently, the navy blue and silver of their uniforms unmistakable.

His legs folded up onto his small bed, pulling the thin blanket he’d used for years closer. The later it got, the colder his room became. He’d be going to sleep soon, before it got too cold to conceive slumber.

The lights turned off at 8, anyways.

Looking down to the street, Jongdae watched a couple be apprehended by a group of soldiers. He was grateful he couldn't see the couple’s faces, he could barely see anything from his room on the 83rd floor.

Thunder shook the window lightly, the harsh winds curving the rain to hit the glass forcefully. This was one of the worse storms, if he was unlucky the lights would go out earlier than usual tonight.

He turned his eyes to the buildings. A large billboard had been propped up on a distant office building since the last phase of the ring cycle. It displayed the grinning phase of the newest elected Dominion official.

The billboard would change soon, it always did.

Jongdae’s eyes were pulled away from the sinister grin by the sound of slamming metal, his head whipping around in fear to see his door had been forced open.

Two guards stood outside.

His mind started to race, eyes shaking as he pulled the blanket closer to his body. He hadn't done anything, he swore. Guards didn't enter your room unless you'd done something.

The guards stepped into the room, a figure between them. One of the guards spoke, voice similar to the thunder overhead.

“This is your new roommate. He's a Runt, from Pateras. Make sure he behaves.” The guard instructed gruffly as Jongdae shook within his bed, listening in confusion.

The silent guard was holding tightly onto the arm of the rather vicious looking Runt, throwing him onto the ground disdainfully.

Jongdae’s eyes remained glued to the scene as the guards stepped out of the door again, the man on the ground turning his head back to them to bark an angry, “Assholes!” at the retreating men before the door slammed shut again.

Jongdae silently shuffled closer to the wall behind him. He knew that if he jumped out of the window at this height he wouldn't survive. It didn't matter, he wouldn't be able to break the glass anyways.

Jongdae pulled the blanket around his body, trying to mask as much visible skin from the man as possible. He watched in anticipation as the man shook his head before picking himself up from the ground with a growl.

His clothes alone were unlike anything Jongdae had ever seen; tight fitting grey pants with a buttoned blue shirt. A dirt and grease covered brown vest hung from his chest openly.

The stranger’s clothes were nothing like the black uniforms all citizens were required to wear like him, or the structured blue and silver uniforms of all Dominion workers, or the extravagant and brightly colored furs of the Luxures.

When the stranger’s eyes flitted over to meet his, Jongdae experienced one of the scariest moments of his life. Worse than the pain that rattled through his bones every day, worse than the horrid images of the past that appeared behind his eyelids.

No, this man was an all new kind of terror. Jongdae’s eyes immediately moved away, but he'd already seen enough to keep him up for days.

He'd never seen anything like it. He almost looked normal. Almost. Except he was more muscular than the finest of Dominion soldiers, and his skin was a light blue color that made him look half dead, and his eyes. His eyes were truly terrifying. While one was a relatively normal dark brown like his own, the other was a pure, crystalline white. An angry, short scar ran across the eyelid of his left, white eye.

On Amenta, the only people that had scars like that were either prisoners, or dead.

This man surely wasn't dead, not yet at least, and he wasn't a prisoner. At least, Jongdae hoped he wasn't. He didn't think he could defend himself against a criminal.

He shuffled closer to the wall.

As he felt the cold metal press against his bare back, Jongdae watched out of his peripheral vision as the man went to sit down on the spare bed.

Two cycles ago, it hadn't been vacant. Jongdae’s roommate used to occupy it every night, until he'd been arrested for stealing from the Dominion.

Jongdae didn't want to think about where he was now.

He also didn't think it was a good idea to drop his guard around his new roommate. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.

Hesitantly, Jongdae looked back at the stranger out of the corner of his eye. The stranger was looking back, white eye reflecting the dim light of his- their room.

“What's your name, kid?” Jongdae looked away at the man’s question, his perpetual frown deepening.

When he wasn't yelling and growling angrily, the man’s voice was surprisingly sweet. It was more than startling.

Jongdae didn't answer, deciding to keep his eyes focused on the loose threads of his old, decrepit blanket. He couldn't deny that he was a bit jealous of this man for getting a new, fresh one.

A sigh came from the other end of the small room, “not much of a talker, huh?” Jongdae really wished he would stop talking before their room attracted any more attention.

He shuffled back more, cursing internally when he realized he couldn't go back any further. For once, he wished 8 could come sooner.

“What did those dirtmongers call me? A Runt?” The man asked gruffly, Jongdae spotting him shake his head out of the corner of his eye. “Why won't you answer me? You mute?”

Jongdae hesitated, his fingers clenching in the blanket. It was a bad idea and he knew it was, to respond. But if he didn't, the Pateran might get mad at him and lash out.

Clearing his throat, Jongdae kept his eyes firmly trained on his mattress. “W-We…. We're not a-allowed to talk at night.” His voice came out weakly, praying to the Three Rings that none of the guards could hear him.

Still, he wished he could have spoken a bit louder; the quake in his words probably made this man think he was weak and vulnerable. As if his wet eyes and emaciated form didn't do that already.

“Why not? What's so special about nighttime?” The man scoffed, obviously amused by the concept. Jongdae hadn't seen a smile in so long, even a sardonic one.

He risked answering again, “Dominion Codes. Only Luxures and Dominion personnel can speak after 6.” It was currently 7, Jongdae knew that he could be beaten for this.

The Pateran shifted where he was sitting, leaning forward slightly. “What's a Luxure?”

If the strange man asked one more question, Jongdae would consider jumping out of the window behind him. If he could break the glass, of course.

Pulling the blanket up to his throat, Jongdae stared down at the metal floor. “Th-they're the rich people of Amenta. The Dominion allows them certain privileges.”

If Jongdae spoke in a negative light about the Dominion he could get arrested, he had to be careful. This man might be a spy.

“Hm… And what did those assholes call me back there? A Runt? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Jongdae didn't know why this man came to Amenta, but if he knew what was good for him he would leave now.

That is, if he could. Jongdae had never heard of anyone that got out, everyone that tried was killed immediately.

Jongdae cleared his throat again, scratchy from disuse. “A-A Runt. It's what people call people from other planets, mostly Dominion workers who look down on those not from Amenta.” Careful, Jongdae reminded himself. “It-it’s not a very nice word.”

He saw the stranger nod out of the corner of his eye. He hasn't hurt Jongdae yet, maybe his unfamiliar clothes and intimidating scar were deceiving.

Jongdae knew better than to believe that, and reminded himself to trust no one under any costs.

“Gotcha. So you never answered my question.” Jongdae stayed silent, eyes fixed downwards. “What's your name?”

He didn't want to get hurt, he knew he had to answer. “J-Jongdae. My serial number is 2108-KJD.”

The other man remained silent for another moment before scoffing. “Serial number? You're not some bag of Drake Root Chips at a store, you're a person. Why would you have a number?”

This guy was either really stupid or knew nothing at all about Amenta and the Dominion. Either way, he was going to get killed for all the questions he asked sooner or later.

Jongdae looked around the room hesitantly, hoping that no one was outside listening before answering slowly, “the Dominion doesn't let us use our birth names. Using serial numbers helps keep things orderly.”

“Yeah, and impersonal and psychotic. What are these nerfherders brainwashing you people with?” The man cursed, his voice raising slightly.

“Please stop talking!” Jongdae whispered quickly when he heard the sound of a boot outside, cringing at the heavy noise.

He was going to die. He was going to be killed by the Dominion all because this guy couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Jongdae stared at the door in fear as the room fell silent, his breath caught in his chest as he waited for the door to slam open.

After a moment, the heavy boots walked away and took with them the risk of being killed. For tonight, at least.

Jongdae breathed easy, but not for long when he remembered that he’d just yelled at this scary, strange man to stop talking.

One way or another, he was obviously destined to die tonight. If his mother were there, she would tell him to just accept fate as it was, to accept whatever the Rings were to bestow upon him.

“I-I-I’m s-so sorry.” Jongdae stuttered out nervously, his thin fingers wringing in the blanket to bring it closer to his body. As if a heap of dirty, threadbare cloth could protect him. “I-I just didn't want-t the guard to hear, I didn't mean t-to tell you what to do.” Jongdae continued, eyes clenched shut and head pointed down. “Please… Please don't hurt me.”

If the stranger didn't think he was pathetic before, he definitely would now. Maybe if he looked pathetic then he'd take mercy when beating him. It had worked with some of the guards before, looking pathetic was probably the only reason Jongdae was still alive.

When the man spoke again his voice was much closer, causing ice to run through Jongdae’s veins in fear. “Look at me, Jongdae.”

The way he said his name sent electricity running up Jongdae’s spine. He hadn't heard that name from another’s lips in years.

Jongdae shook his head quickly, eyes firmly shut and fingers firmly grasping thin cloth. “I… I-I can't.” Jongdae stuttered out.

“Why not?” The voice was even closer. Jongdae was afraid he would be able to feel the man’s breath soon.

“I… We’re not supposed to make eye contact with those above ourselves… Dominion Code.” Jongdae explained. By a Dominion’s opinion, this man was of the lowest kind as a Runt, but Jongdae did not have the same ideals.

Every nerve in Jongdae’s body lit up in fear as he felt impossibly hot fingers press into his jaw, his hands beginning to quake as his head was lifted.

“Open your eyes, Jongdae.” They only met minutes ago, why did this man speak as if he knew him? “Open.”

With the press of fingertips against his skin and fear coursing through him, Jongdae’s eyes slowly opened to connect with those before him.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so close to someone, the last time he'd looked into someone's eyes.

It was a chilling experience, especially with one of the man’s eyes being so disturbing.

“Good. Now, answer this question: do you think I'm better than you?” If Jongdae hadn't been trained to hold in his tears, he'd surely be sobbing by now.

This stranger had to be scarier than anyone he'd ever met. The Dominion soldiers and guards were predictable; he knew exactly when and where they would hit, knew exactly what angered them.

His new roommate was unpredictable, volatile. That was scarier than anything he'd ever experienced.

Slowly Jongdae nodded, mouth hanging open slightly in fear and shock as he continued to stare at the other man.

“Why?” The man was angry. Why?, Jongdae wondered. He'd called him better, usually everyone else left him alone when he boosted their ego and lowered his own.

Jongdae cleared his throat, his jaw shifting around small, strong fingers. They were covered in calluses, muscle. Not the skin and bone of Jongdae’s weak hands.

“You-You're stronger.” Jongdae started.

“You think that physical strength determines personal worth?”

“Why wouldn't it?” Jongdae asked, a bit too quickly. He hoped the other didn't interpret it as talking back.

He must have, because when the words processed the other man looked angry again. “Why wouldn't it? Maybe because you're a fucking person? Your worth isn't about how much you can lift.”

For once, Jongdae felt himself get angry. How could this man just come to their planet and think he knows everything?

“No, but it's about who can win in a fight. It's about being pathetic or not, about being able to take a beating just for breathing the wrong way. What would you know about it?” Jongdae spat quickly, suddenly unafraid of his fate. When the rush of adrenaline went away, he would know how stupid his outburst was.

The other man’s eyebrows turned down angrily. “What would I know about it? I just got back from a fucking war, kid. What would you know about fighting?”

“I've been fighting to stay alive my entire life. Don't come to my planet and assume you can make the rules. Unless you're in the Dominion, you get to sit down and shut up like the rest of us. Deal with it.” Jongdae snapped, ripping his jaw from the other’s grasp.

Thankfully, the other man took a step back at that. His expression looked surprised, as if he didn't expect such an outburst. Jongdae hadn't expected it either, he hadn't raised his voice at anymore since he was a kid.

“What's so great about this Dominion anyways? Why do you listen to them?” He asked slowly, staring down at Jongdae.

Overhead, all lights in the room went out abruptly. Distantly, he could hear the sound of the building’s heater shutting off.

Thunder boomed overhead, rain still hitting the window loudly. Since the other man arrived, Jongdae had completely forgotten about the storm.

“You'll find out.” Jongdae murmured lowly, moving to lie down and curl up tightly with the blanket pulled snug around his body. If he could fall asleep soon, he might be able to sleep through the cold night.

“What do you mean?”

Jongdae frowned, pulling the blanket close to his throat. He hoped the other hadn't seen the dark bruise wrapped around his neck. He’d done something wrong at the factory earlier that day and had suffered the consequences of his mistake. He always did.

“Please, just… If you care about yourself, learn how to obey quickly.” With the light from the capital city streaming through the window, Jongdae could see the other sit down on his bed.

“I've never been able to do that very well, sweetie.” The other remarked, chuckling lowly as he sat back.

Jongdae shuffled his legs slightly, cut off guard by the name. Birth names weren't allowed on Amenta, let alone pet names.

This guy was screwed.

“Learn.” Jongdae murmured, burying his head against the hard mattress.

Thankfully, the exhaustion from the day began to take him, clutching onto the last dregs of warmth in the room as he began to fall into shallow, poor sleep.

The last thing he heard before closing his eyes was a faint, “my name’s Minseok, by the way.”

Jongdae wished he'd never told him, on Amenta learning birth names meant getting attached. There was no greater death sentence on his planet than becoming attached to someone so destined to cause trouble.

Still, the last thing Jongdae saw before falling asleep was Minseok’s white eye staring back at him.

Maybe he was the one that was screwed. 


	2. Chapter 2

Jongdae kept his eyes strongly focused on the pavement under his feet, moving at the same steady pace along the memorized route he walked twice every day. 

 

Below his feet, he watched the falling rain hit the sidewalk angrily. The storms were only getting worse. 

 

A few people down the line, someone stumbled and sent the line into temporary chaos. When the man was pulled out of the line by one of their many supervisors everyone kept walking and pretended to not hear his screams.

 

It was always easier to pretend they didn't hear. 

 

At the very least, Jongdae’s day at work hadn't been the absolute worst. His thin fingers ached and shook from having to work with so many small metal parts all day, and his lower back screamed with pain from leaning over a conveyor belt for over sixteen hours, but it could always be worse. 

 

The bruises around his throat hadn't healed quite yet, but no had bothered to mention it so far. It was common courtesy to not mention it when someone came home bruised or limping or bleeding. 

 

Overhead, if Jongdae looked up he might be able to see the faint light of the Three Rings overhead. He didn't look up. It wasn't worth being caught by the supervisors. 

 

At 6, as always, they were approaching the Compound after their long walk back from the factory. In the distance, he could see the workers from the mine coming back. 

 

When Jongdae’s line was guided through the doors they were taken to the mess hall as they were everyday, the huge room on the bottom floor of the Compound already filled with noise. 

 

In the capital city of Amenta, the main Compound that Jongdae lived in housed thousands of thousands of people, all Citizens. A Luxure or Dominion worker would never dare live in a Compound, not even the people that worked there. 

 

The routine of the Compound was simple: you are woken up every day to go to work for fourteen to sixteen hours, depending on your job and health conditions. After that you are marched to the Compound under strict supervision and straight to the mess hall. They were allowed one hour to eat barren meals, permitted to socialize with one another but anyone that disturbed order would be put in their place. 

 

After their one meal for the day a sharp bell would ring at 7 signaling it was night, meaning they were no longer allowed to socialize or loiter. They'd be sent to their rooms to spend their free time sitting in silence and the lights and heater would turn off at 8, wordlessly representing it was time to sleep. 

 

The next day, the routine would repeat. 

 

Jongdae watched with weary eyes as they were guided into the mess hall, preparing himself for the noise of so many people in one room. They all spoke in low voices, but so many people talking combined into one giant mass of voices. 

 

Guards handed out the small metal trays as they joined the long line to get their food, one of the many thrusting the cold metal into Jongdae’s thin arms. 

 

It took awhile before Jongdae even reached the food, the line even longer behind him as the mine and mill workers arrived. 

 

Stepping silently through the line, Jongdae was served the same thing they were given every other day: a small bowl of Drake Root broth, a sliver of grain loaf, and a minuscule glass of water that barely met Dominion Codes standards of what they were supposed to be provided. 

 

Sometimes, on Day of the Ring Folly, the one holiday they were allowed to celebrate, they would be given a small cut of Dorne meat. Unfortunately, that wasn't for another quarter cycle. 

 

When Jongdae finally finished the line and walked to his usual table, over a fourth of the time allotted to eat and socialize was gone. He pitied the mill workers who all got in so late and had the longest walk. 

 

Jongdae crossed the mess hall, tray clenched tightly in wiry hands, smiling emptily when one of his few friends looked up and saw him. 

 

“Hey, Sehun.” Jongdae mumbled out as he set his tray down gently, slowly sitting down for the first time since he'd woken up. He couldn't restrain his low sigh of relief. 

 

“You're getting old, Jongdae.” Sehun teased through a half genuine smile. Him and Chanyeol were their happiest friends by far, somehow always managing a smile despite all they'd been through. 

 

Sehun was just cheery because he was young, Jongdae suspected. Chanyeol… Chanyeol was just Chanyeol. 

 

“I've been old for cycles, Sehun. You'll understand someday.” Jongdae lamented with a faked smile. 

 

“Nuh, uh. I'm never going to act like you old people.” 

 

“Who's old?” Chanyeol asked as he stepped up to the table, a big grin covering his face despite the green dust covering his skin from working in the mines. Behind his shoulder, Jongdae could see the dark purple hair that signified Baekhyun had gotten back from the mill on time. 

 

“All of us, apparently.” Jongdae reported, breaking off tiny bits of his grain loaf and eating them carefully. He learned that if you eat slowly in small bites the food seemed more than it really was. 

 

“Don't let Yixing hear that, he's been worrying about wrinkles lately.” Baekhyun joked as he sat down at their small circular table. 

 

“Where is he, anyways?” Sehun asked curiously, raising his chin to look around for their remaining friend. Again, they didn't have many. 

 

Chanyeol was the one to answer, “Somewhere in the line. There's a new guy at the mine today. He's an off-planeter too. Baekhyun, do you know him?”

 

Judging by the look Baekhyun sent Chanyeol, he didn't know him. “Not all off-planeters know each other, Chanyeol. There's a lot more of us than there are of you.” 

 

Baekhyun was always a bit defensive about his race and planetary origins, but who could blame him? Jongdae would be the first to say that xenophobia was deeply ingrained in their planet, especially within the Dominion. 

 

Chanyeol’s hands flew up in defense, not wanting to be the recipient of one of Baekhyun’s infamous arm punches. His fingers were far too bony and strong from working in the mill. 

 

More often than not, Chanyeol was the only one being punched. 

 

Jongdae’s slight smile faded as he felt a tap on his shoulder, his entire body seizing up and the loaf dropping from his fingers. 

 

Clenching his fingers tightly to prevent their quaking, Jongdae hesitantly turned his head back to see who had touched him so suddenly. 

 

To his relief, all he was met with was the familiar dimpled smile of Yixing. It was even more gentle and tentative than usual. 

 

“Hey, Jongdae-ah.” Sometimes Jongdae sensed Yixing saw him as a child. He hadn't had the heart yet to tell Yixing he'd prefer Yixing be mean and cruel to him than coddling and patronizing him. “There was a new guy at the mines today, and I was wondering if he could sit with us? He's nice, and funny, and a foreigner. You don't have to say yes.” 

 

Jongdae knew exactly why Yixing was asking him and no one else. Every one of his friends always viewed him as the weakest link, and he knew it. He also knew that they meant well, and were just trying to protect him, but they didn't realize that he'd went through too much in life to need their protection. 

 

Still, he knew it made them feel better to help him and cater to him sometimes, so he hadn't intervened quite yet. 

 

“Why would I care?” Jongdae asked jokingly before turning back around to face his food. “Yeah, that's fine.” 

 

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see everyone smiling because he'd accepted. Yixing scurried to his seat between Sehun and Chanyeol, leaving the seat between Baekhyun and Jongdae free for the new guy. 

 

“Your friend said it's okay, right?” Without even looking up from his tray, Jongdae could immediately recognize the voice above him. 

 

Still, he hesitantly picked his head up to look to his right. Mismatching eyes connected with his own. 

 

“Jongdae.” The other exhaled, tray still grasped in his hands as he stood before the table. 

 

All eyes at the table flicked back and forth between them. 

 

“Um, do you guys know each other?” Baekhyun asked slowly from beside Minseok, speaking for the whole group’s combined confusion. 

 

Simultaneously, Jongdae and Minseok both broke out of the moment they'd become caught in and quickly flitted their eyes back to the rest of their friends. 

 

“What?” Minseok asked dumbly. Out of the corner of his eye Jongdae could see his eyebrows raised high and mouth hanging open. 

 

At the same time, Jongdae had an only slightly more intelligible answer. “Oh, um, yeah. M-Minseok is my new roommate.” He informed everyone suddenly. 

 

“What?” Baekhyun and Chanyeol asked in unison. 

 

“That's awesome!” Yixing decreed with a smile. 

 

“At least now you won't be a lonely, mopey loser anymore.” Sehun joked as he scarfed down his food urgently. 

 

Finally, Minseok took his seat next to Jongdae and began to eat. Jongdae repressed the urge to shuffle awkwardly in his seat. Minseok wasn't going to hurt him, he had to remind himself. 

 

Not here, at least. He seemed too smart to attack him in front of the guards. 

 

Baekhyun scoffed, “this guy is his roommate, not a miracle worker. No one could cure Jongdae of his loser status.” Jongdae smiled good naturedly. 

 

Jongdae listened half-heartedly as he picked up his barely eaten slice of grain loaf. As every day, he began to divide the slice into equal portions. 

 

His thin fingers meticulously split up the bread into five equal parts instead of the usual four, beginning to hand them out to everyone around the table. 

 

He dropped the brown pieces of loaf onto everyone’s trays, watching with a small smile as everyone began to eat the offerings. They were far too used to the occurrence to ask any questions. 

 

Minseok, unfortunately, wasn't. 

 

“What's this for?” He asked quietly when Jongdae wordlessly dropped the piece of loaf onto his plate. 

 

Jongdae shrugged slightly, “you're part of the table now. If everyone else gets one, you should too.” 

 

Minseok hesitated, the confused expression on his face saying that Jongdae’s explanation did not help at all. “Yeah, but… Shouldn't you be eating it? Everyone else has their own already.” 

 

“You obviously don't know how Jongdae is yet.” Sehun remarked from the other end of the table. 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

Jongdae butted back into the conversation. “You all need it more than me. Sehun is still young, he needs it to grow. Baekhyun needs more grain in his diet than me because he's from Xenith. And you guys work in the mines, you need to stay strong.” 

 

“That doesn't mean you don't need to  _ stay alive _ .” 

 

Jongdae was starting to realize that Minseok would have no qualms with giving him trouble, even if he meant well. “Can we not talk about this here?” Jongdae whispered under his breath, beginning to sip his broth gradually. 

 

“Fine, but I'm not going to eat this.” Minseok mumbled. 

 

“I will!” Sehun cheered, reaching across the table with a grin to snatch the piece of bread and toss it back into his mouth. 

 

Jongdae smiled fondly as he saw Sehun smile in satisfaction at the extra food. That was why he gave it to them, to see that they were as happy and healthy as they could be. 

 

It was worth his stomach rumbling late at night. 

 

 

After their mess hall time ended and they were sent to their rooms, Minseok and Jongdae said goodbye to everyone else and watched them join the lines to go upstairs. 

 

Jongdae walked up the stairs in the long line behind Minseok, eternally grateful that the other man stayed quiet and didn't break any rules. 

 

The last thing he wanted to do was clean blood off his floor instead of getting his daily window watching time. 

 

It took too long to reach their room, being corralled inside by a guard before the door slammed shut and left them alone as the guard walked off to watch over others. 

 

Jongdae’s fingers wrung together in front of him, eyes pointed down and away from Minseok. 

 

He had a feeling the “no talking” rule would not be frequently observed by his rebellious roommate, knowing Minseok’s presence would be the end of him sooner or later. 

 

Jongdae walked over to his bed, smoothing down the ratty blanket before sitting down against the wall. Graciously, Minseok didn't immediately interrogate him, deciding first to ask, “How old is Sehun?” 

 

Jongdae turned his head back to watch the city. It was stormy again. “Seventeen.” He answered quietly. 

 

Behind his back, Jongdae heard Minseok mutter something in his native tongue. Judging by his tone and general way of speaking, it had probably been cursing. 

 

In the reflection on the window, Jongdae could see Minseok plopping down onto his bed. He was upset to realize that he was paying more attention to Minseok than the city. 

 

He forced his eyes to focus on the people walking down below, staring down enviously at their bright furs and well-fed bodies. 

 

Outside the door, they could hear the sound of heavy boots hitting the ground. They stayed quiet until the noise was far, far away from being heard. 

 

When Minseok spoke, Jongdae almost wished the guard would circle back around so that he didn't have to answer any of Minseok's questions. 

 

“Why do you give them your food, Jongdae?” Minseok’s voice was quiet, tentative. If he didn't know better, he'd almost think he sounded pained. 

 

Jongdae’s blunt fingernail tapped the glass lightly. “I don't give them all of it.” He murmured petulantly, not particularly wanting to have this conversation. 

 

They'd met yesterday, who was Minseok to challenge his every move after they just met?

 

“It's enough. You're skinny as a rail, Jongdae, why give them half of the only food you get?” 

 

“You say that I'm skinny as if I don't know.” As if he wanted it to happen, as if he liked being able to see every bone in his body through his blotchy skin. 

 

“Why, Jongdae?”

 

“Is it wrong to want my friends to be happy? Does it offend you that I want them to be healthy and not starve to death?” 

 

As always, Minseok was not without a quick response. “No, but it offends me that you think it's okay that  _ you _ starve to death. Do you really think that everyone else is more important than you? Do you have any sense of self preservation?”

 

Slowly, Jongdae’s head turned back again to look at Minseok. He was wearing regulatory clothing now, the same as Jongdae. Somehow, it was even eerier to see him in the black garments rather than his strange, foreign clothes. 

 

“I was born into a society that runs on self-preservation and selfishness. My entire life I've seen people around me suffer because everyone thinks the world revolves around them. I'm sorry that I want to change that, even if it's just with a piece of food.” Jongdae slowly explained to Minseok with a frown. He wouldn't expect the other man to understand. “It's important to me, I'm not going to change for you.” 

 

Jongdae couldn't remember the last time he'd been so honest with someone, even his best friends. It was easier to talk to Minseok about these things. Perhaps because he was detached from the situation in a way, he didn't fully understand things yet.

 

Evidently, Jongdae’s response had shocked Minseok into silence. He was staring over at him with a calculating expression, eyes focused and mouth shut. 

 

When Minseok didn't grant him with a response, Jongdae’s eyes turned back to the window. More soldiers walked in single file lines out into the street. 

 

When the silence was finally broken moments later, Minseok’s voice was closer than minutes before. 

 

“Where did you get that bruise, Jongdae?” 

 

Down below, Jongdae could faintly see a soldier beating someone over the head with a cane. His eyes averted away up to the sky. 

 

“At work. It's nothing.” Jongdae answered, knowing already that not answering Minseok’s questions would just make him ask more. 

 

Jongdae watches a flash of movement behind him in the reflection of the window. Minseok’s voice is closer, “it doesn't look like nothing. Tell me what happened.” 

 

Jongdae’s body is sent into motion when he sees the reflection of an outstretched hand moving closer. Quickly he turns around to face the other, scurrying close to the wall and away from the now frozen hand. 

 

“Don't touch, please.” Jongdae blurts urgently. He could still feel the chilling shadow of Minseok’s fingers on his chin, of Yixing’s tap on his shoulder, of the hand gripping his throat angrily. “Please. Please, I'll tell you, just don't touch.” He pleads desperately. 

 

Minseok’s expression falters, eyebrows drawing inwards as his hand hesitantly drops to his side. “Okay,” comes the slow reply. 

 

Jongdae gulps, slowly nodding to himself as the risk of danger recedes. “Okay…” He parrots, trying to come up with an explanation that won't sound too bad. 

 

“I… I made a mistake at the factory, broke something on the conveyor belt. It was my fault and the guard got mad, I don't blame him for it. I deserved worse, anyone else would have gotten worse. They take pity on me.” 

 

Jongdae could see in the clenching of Minseok’s jaw that he was holding back his anger, for Jongdae’s sake. He had long ago perfected the art of interpreting body language for his own self preservation. 

 

“Why?” Minseok asked slowly, fingers twitching at his side. 

 

Jongdae bit at his chapped lips hesitantly, fingers wringing together. “I don't ask about your dark past.” 

 

“What makes you assume I have a dark past?” Jongdae looked up, surprised to see the look he was met with. 

 

Perhaps that was why he could talk so honestly to Minseok without any burden; because when Minseok looked at him it was without any ounce of pity. 

 

The guards and soldiers saw him as weak, his friends saw him as a wounded animal in need of protection. 

 

Just from one look, Jongdae could tell Minseok didn't think the same. He saw his protruding bones and shaky hands and nervous disposition. And yet, he didn't see Jongdae as a charity case or a child. 

 

It was terrifying. 

 

“If it's just because of the scar then you're an idiot.” Minseok continued. Jongdae realized it may have been the first time he'd heard someone talk about their own scars so openly. He knew that he'd never talk about his own. 

 

“It's not. Scars mean pain, not darkness. The difference is in how you deal with the scars, both physical and mental.” Jongdae explained, looking down at his scarred hand. “Chanyeol has scars but no darkness. Baekhyun has darkness but no scars.”

 

“And we're just the lucky bastards that have both?” Minseok joked with a sardonic smirk, looking over Jongdae’s shoulder to the city skyline. 

 

“I suppose so.” Jongdae murmured, turning his head incrementally to look outside again. Blood was being cleaned from the sidewalk down below. 

 

“I would tell you, you know.” 

 

Jongdae turned his head back again to look up at Minseok, if only just to avoid thinking about the blood-stained pavement. “Tell me what?”

 

Minseok shuffled his feet to step closer, Jongdae’s eyes moving to watch his hands to make sure he wouldn't attack. “If you asked me about my past. I'd tell you.” 

 

Jongdae wondered if everyone from Minseok’s planet was so trusting and open. “I… Thank you, Minseok. But I won't ask you. If you want to tell me, I'll listen, but I won't ask.” 

 

Minseok nodded, arms crossing over his chest. Jongdae forced himself to keep his eyes trained on Minseok’s face, knowing better than to let them stray. “Can I tell you something, Minseok?” 

 

“Anything.” 

 

Jongdae took a deep breath, “Just as a tip, if you're as concerned with self-preservation as it seems, don't trust the people around you. Whatever you came from, however horrible it was, it's nothing like here. The people you love most will take advantage of you and expose you the second they get the chance. If you want to stay alive, don't trust anyone.” 

 

Jongdae knew his advice sounded too experienced, because it was. He knew better than anyone how deceitful his society could be, he wouldn't let Minseok fall victim to the poison of his people. 

 

“And why should I trust you?”

 

Jongdae shrugged minimally. “I never said you should. But you evidently do, to some extent. Besides, it's not like I really have anyone to tell. The only people I know you met today, and they're great friends but they don't know a single thing about me besides what everyone knows. I'm not a sharer or a joiner, if you haven't noticed.” 

 

Minseok smiled slightly, a nod accompanying a low chuckle that rumbled through his chest. “I have.” He confirmed unflinchingly. “And… Do you trust me, Jongdae?” 

 

“No.” The younger answered honestly. It would take a lot more than two conversations to earn even a fraction of his trust. “But I think I could, maybe. You'll have to show me that you deserve it.”

 

A whir could be heard overhead as all the lights within the room flickered off within a second. Jongdae shivered as he remembered how cold it was as the Ring cycle moved on. 

 

“And how do you suppose I do that?” In the dark, when Jongdae couldn't focus on Minseok’s body language or his startling eyes, the older man’s accent became more noticeable. 

 

Jongdae lethargically moved to lay down on his side, looking up at Minseok’s dull figure only lit by the city lights. “You'll figure it out.” He muttered cryptically, eyes closing in exhaustion. 

 

Minseok’s chuckling rang clear within the silent, dark room. After 8, sometimes being awake felt like sensory deprivation; suddenly you became aware of everything in the world when the lights went off and the room went silent. 

 

“Goodnight, Jongdae.” 

 

Jongdae smiled lightly, curling the blanket between his fingers as he rolled his body into a tight ball to keep himself warm. 

 

He'd forgotten how nice it was to have a roommate, even without the talking it was always nice to not be completely alone on cold, dark nights. 

 

He just hoped he wouldn't get too attached to the companionship. 

 

“Goodnight.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the amazing @strippertaemin on twitter everyone go tell her how amazing she is for putting up with my shit
> 
> Chapter warnings: homophobic/xenophobic language, brief sexual language, minor character death

As time progressed with countless daily routines and wordless submission, Jongdae watched Minseok slowly become part of his life. 

 

Every night they would talk endlessly about nothing at all, meticulously listening outside for nearby guards so they did not get caught. 

 

Jongdae watched helplessly as he slowly began to involuntarily like Minseok more and more, opening up to him increasingly every night. They still didn't talk about their pasts or the dark world surrounding them, and Jongdae still didn't let Minseok touch him in any way, but they were making progress. He'd even let Minseok sit on his bed once, granted they were at very opposite ends, but it was something. 

 

Truthfully, growing to enjoy Minseok’s company terrified Jongdae to his core. He knew all too well the consequences of having a friend, and he'd tried so hard to keep Minseok out to protect himself. 

 

Unfortunately, the other man simply wouldn't allow him to put up strong walls between them. He broke them down in an instant with a kind smile and a funny story and Jongdae fell victim to his charm every time. 

 

He knew he needed to be careful, things were reaching dangerous territory very quickly

 

The last thing he wanted was to repeat the past. 

  
  


The factory on most days was relatively quiet. Yes, the machines throughout the giant building were louder than one could even imagine, but after years of working in the same factory every day Jongdae had gotten used to the noise. 

 

No, the factory was usually quiet in the way of activity. None of the workers were allowed to talk, and the countless guards patrolling the factory only talked to the workers when they messed up. 

 

The factory, despite its monotony, was hell. 

 

Working in the factory was seen as a place for the weak or those the Dominion didn't trust. Jongdae, coincidentally, could fall into both categories. It was a job for those lacking strength because there was no manual labor involved, all they had to do was stand at an assembly line all day and stick together small metal parts. 

 

It was a job for the untrustworthy because there was nothing a rebel or spy could gain from working in the factory; everything inside was invaluable, there were no government secrets inside, and besides pollution there was nothing special about the factory. 

 

Oh yes, the factory could surely provide plenty of that. On the coldest nights, Jongdae would be up all night doubled over in horrible coughing fits. When he pulled his hand away from his mouth, it would be covered in ugly black soot. 

 

The dust and smoke filled the air within the factory, making their vision hazy and breath shallow. Sweat covered their skin every day of the year, soot clinging to the moisture cloyingly.  

 

Faintly, Jongdae could hear rain hitting the roof as he stuck small gears together mechanically. As the cycle moved further towards the Day of the Ring Folly it always became so much stormier. 

 

It was the middle of his shift when the factory door opened quickly, the sound of slamming of metal ringing across the room. A struggle could be heard from where he worked. Unable to conceal his curiosity, Jongdae looked up at the scene from under his eyelashes as his fingers continued to work on instinct. 

 

That is, his fingers were working until he saw what had created the chaos. 

 

Storming into the factory, two soldiers pushed someone forward forcefully. Even through the smog and dust, Jongdae could immediately see it was Minseok. 

 

Hurrying to conceal his mistake, Jongdae moved his eyes down to the conveyor and quickly stuck parts together while he kept his ears open anxiously. 

 

“Stupid fucker thought he could get away with it,” Jongdae heard one of the soldiers tell the head guard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other soldier punch Minseok in the stomach. Jongdae cringed, unable to conceal his frown. 

 

“Oh well, we'll make sure he stays on his  _ best  _ behavior. Isn't that right, Runt?” The head guard sneered before slapping Minseok hard across the cheek. 

 

Jongdae’s fingers tightened around the small pieces of iron in his hands, shoulders tense. 

 

The soldiers marched out, leaving Minseok surrounded by the head guard and multiple other Dominion workers. 

 

“Let’s see… What should we do with you?” The head guard wondered aloud. “Aha! Hey, Gruffer!” 

 

Jongdae’s whole body tensed up as he heard the slur pointed at him, biting down on his lip as he could feel everyone stare at him. Including Minseok. 

 

“Why don't you show the filthy Runt how things work around here? Make sure he behaves.” The guard instructed him, voice raised so the entire factory could hear him. “Try not to get on your knees while on the job, wouldn't want to have to kill  _ both  _ of you this time.”

 

Tears pricked painfully at Jongdae’s eyes as his hands started to quake, mouth hanging open as he stared down at the conveyor belt. Humiliation ran through his system as not only the guards but the workers around him laughed at the remark. 

 

Through the ringing of his ears, he could hear other people throughout the building throw slurs and insults at him, only amplifying the laughter. 

 

As Jongdae saw Minseok approaching he quickly rubbed his wrist across his face to chase away the tears threatening to fall. 

 

Usually he never got affected by those kinds of things, he was more than used to his fair share of insults and jibes on a daily basis. But the guard’s insult had been purposefully low and painful, striking him where it hurt most. 

 

It didn't help that he was humiliated to have Minseok see him in this way. He'd spent so long trying to make Minseok see him as strong, as someone worth his time. It was over now. Minseok would find out the meaning of what everyone said about him from someone and he'd immediately turn on Jongdae, see him as the weak, disgusting creature that everyone else saw. 

 

Hell, he was lucky that Minseok had managed to stay in the dark this long. Maybe he should be thankful he'd been allowed to have a real friend for this long. 

 

Slowly the jeers died down and everyone returned to their work instead of insulting Jongdae, but he could tell this was far from over. He didn't have to see the look Minseok sent him as he explained how to put the parts together to know that their nightly conversation wouldn't be so pleasant. 

 

Like it or not, this was the beginning of the end. Even if Jongdae didn't explain, Minseok would go asking someone else the meaning of ‘Gruffer’ and ‘Red Runt’ and ‘cocksucker’. The last one was unfortunately self-explanatory, and Minseok was hearing every bit of it. 

 

Thankfully, Minseok didn't ask him about it at all when they were at work and spent the rest of the day falling into the routine of the assembly line next to Jongdae. 

 

Overwhelmed from the embarrassment, Jongdae wouldn't even consider until later that night that he would be working alongside Minseok every day from now on. 

 

Even if he got called names because of it, it was a relief to have a friend beside him at the hellacious factory. 

 

That is, while Minseok still was his friend. He had a sinking feeling their friendship was coming to a painful end very soon. 

  
  


After their shift at the factory, Jongdae purposefully took a long time to leave his station so he could be at the back of the line. He'd have less time to eat, but it was for the best to avoid any more humiliation. 

 

Still, a guard jeered at him in his way out and when they returned to the Compound he could feel stares on him the second he stepped inside the mess hall. 

 

He went through the line to get his food silently, grateful for the last few minutes before he had to be interrogated by his friends. Minseok wouldn't ask him about it until they were alone, he never did. 

 

Jongdae’s fingers tightened on his tray as he crossed the mess hall, trying to block out the whispers of his name following him. It had happened so long ago, but the guard’s comment had relit the flame within the others. 

 

Jongdae’s eyes burned as he thought of what Minseok would think of him after tonight. Surely he'd feel repulsion, anger, disgust. 

 

Sniffling, Jongdae looked to his table. Minseok was already sat, everyone leaning in close to talk to one another lowly. When Jongdae approached they all suddenly stopped talking, sitting back and trying to make themselves look normal. 

 

Jongdae resisted calling them out on their behavior, simply setting his tray down silently and sitting down. Immediately, he began to tear the grain loaf and dole the parts out. 

 

“Is everything okay, Jongdae?” Baekhyun asked suddenly, leaning forward with a smile that was a bit too wide. 

 

Jongdae narrowed his eyes, breaking off another piece of grain to give Sehun. If anyone was going to be nice to him, it wouldn't be Baekhyun. He was only ever nice to him when it came to this. 

 

“Why wouldn't it be?” Jongdae answered plainly, giving the last piece of grain to Minseok. He knew he wouldn't eat it, he never did. 

 

Jongdae could remember when Baekhyun first came to Amenta and heard about Jongdae’s reputation. Baekhyun had bluntly told Jongdae without any precursor to not flirt with him and that he didn't fuck Amentians, no matter how sweet his lips looked. 

 

It had taken a long time for Jongdae to accept Baekhyun after those comments. 

 

“I don't know… It's just..” Baekhyun trailed off awkwardly. 

 

“We heard about what happened.” Sehun blurted out. He was a testament to the idea that teenagers were never fond of tact, always announcing what everyone was thinking with no consideration. 

 

Jongdae shifted in his seat. Minseok was sitting next to him silently, watching the scene play out without intervening. Across the table, Chanyeol watched him with wide, guilty eyes. 

 

Not looking up from the table, Jongdae began to spoon the thin broth before him into his mouth carefully. “And? What about it?” He asked quietly, trying to stay disconnected from the situation. 

 

“We just wanted to make sure you're okay. It didn't sound too pretty, we wanted to make sure you're not upset.” Yixing elaborated, leaning towards him. 

 

Jongdae’s lips flattened, letting his spoon drop down and hit the bowl with a metallic clang. “Why wouldn't I be okay? I'm not made of glass, you guys. I can take a few mean names every once in awhile.” 

 

Yixing was quick to respond, “Of course you're not. We just know that everyone's been talking about what happened and you might be upset.” 

 

Jongdae frowned, “It was a long time ago, I got over it.” Even he knows that's not the complete truth. “I'm not as weak as you guys think I am.” 

 

Chanyeol’s eyes bulged nearly out of his head, waving his hands quickly. “W-We don't think you're weak! We never thought-” 

 

“Yes, you guys do.” Jongdae snapped, having reached the breaking point of dealing with his friends’ treatment. “You all think I'm weak and incapable of defending myself. I'm surprised you even allow me to breathe for myself.” 

 

Baekhyun didn't allow Jongdae’s rant to go very far, “Jongdae stop. They're only asking because they care about you. They don't think you're weak.” 

 

“That happened nearly ten years ago. If you didn't think I was weak you wouldn't think that I'm incapable of dealing with a few people laughing at me.” 

 

Baekhyun’s eyebrows pulled inwards, usually signifying that he was about to turn mean. “That guard said in front of hundreds of people that you suck off your best friend. Who wouldn't be upset?” 

 

Jongdae grimaced, his hands clenching into fists on top of his thighs. “Don't talk about what he did like you haven't said worse.” 

 

“What are you talking about?” Baekhyun asked sharply, putting down his food to draw his full attention to the situation.

 

Jongdae could feel his ears get hot with his own anger. “Don't pretend like you're innocent. Don't pretend like our first conversation didn't start with you saying you wouldn't have sex with me. Don't fucking pretend like you didn't treat me like a whore from the second we met.” 

 

“You what?” Yixing asked incredulously, looking between them quickly. He always had been the most protective over Jongdae, at least until Minseok came around. 

 

Everyone at the table stared at him, shocked that Jongdae would have such an outburst. He was the last person that would snap at his friends. 

 

Baekhyun, of course, wasn't going to sit back and take the ridicule no matter how true it was. “Well, it's not my fault you're a fucking Gruffer.” 

 

Within a split second, the entire table fell completely silent. The air around them froze, sticking to the situation awkwardly. Chanyeol and Sehun were staring at Baekhyun with wide eyes and hanging jaws. 

 

“What the fuck, dude?” Yixing swore at Baekhyun under his breath, eyes bulged out. 

 

Before feeling confrontational and angry, with the one word all of Jongdae’s anger seeped from his body to be replaced with shock and hurt. 

 

His eyes burned, hands beginning to shake slightly on his legs as his skin paled and stomach lurched. 

 

Abruptly, Jongdae stood up and stared down at Baekhyun. 

 

“O-Out of everyone, I would expect better from you, Baekhyun. I thought you would understand.” He mumbled, voice shaking with emotion. “It's one thing coming from strangers, but you? I thought you were my friend…. Maybe I was wrong.” 

 

Quickly, Jongdae picked up his tray and rushed to throw his unfinished dinner away. He fled from the mess hall, uncaring that he could get in trouble. 

 

He just wanted to be alone right now. 

  
  


Jongdae was more than surprised when Minseok didn't immediately follow him upstairs. Any other time he would have almost been hurt, but not right now. 

 

Right now, he just needed some time to himself. 

 

It had been years since that incident, and he'd truly thought he'd gotten over it. Until now. 

 

Of course, over the years many people liked to mention it often to fuck with him, usually guards that thought emotionally tormenting him was more fun than physical pain. 

 

Until now, none of his friends had ever mentioned it. They never liked to bring it up, more for themselves than to protect Jongdae’s feelings. 

 

They never liked to acknowledge the harm behind their society’s views, especially when it came to their close friend. 

 

Even with the knowledge of his friends’ views about him, no one had ever dared to persecute him for it, let alone use  _ that word _ against him.

 

The fact that it was Baekhyun was even worse, he thought he would understand after having to deal with the close-mindedness of the Amentian society. 

 

Apparently not. 

 

Jongdae looked away from the window when he heard the door open, bloodshot eyes meeting Minseok’s. 

 

Awkward silence hung between them as the door shut behind Minseok, the guard guiding people to their rooms storming off. 

 

Jongdae looked down at the threadbare blanket below him. He felt the urge to cover himself with it, to protect himself from the inevitable conversation, but he resisted. He trusted Minseok enough now to not protect himself with thin cloth every time the other man so much as looked at him. 

 

When Minseok walked further into the room, Jongdae jumped to speak to prevent the other from immediately interrogating him. 

 

“Are you okay?” He mumbled quickly, words rushing from his mouth hurriedly. “Those guards hit you pretty hard today.” 

 

Thankfully, Minseok took mercy and didn't acknowledge his obvious stalling. “I'm fine, I've had a lot worse.” Came the response, the other man walking closer to his bed. “We Paterans have really thick skin, to protect from the cold. We don't bruise easily.” 

 

Minseok hadn't told him a lot about his planet, he didn't like to talk about it much, but from what Jongdae could collect it was not much more than a barren icy tundra. 

 

“Good.” Jongdae nodded quickly, arms wrapping around his knees. “That's good.” 

 

Silence covered the room again. Minseok took another step closer, standing before Jongdae’s bed. 

 

“I yelled at Baekhyun.” Minseok informed him quietly. “I would have hit him if there weren't guards around.” 

 

Jongdae’s head snapped up to look at Minseok, eyes widened in surprise. He couldn't even imagine someone yelling at Baekhyun, even Sehun didn't have the guts. 

 

His little stunt back in the mess hall was the closest any of them had gotten to yelling at Baekhyun. 

 

Suddenly, Jongdae began to feel a guilty weight settle in his stomach. He shouldn't have yelled at his friends, no matter how upset he was. 

 

Honestly, he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty about what he'd said to Baekhyun. After what he said, he more than deserved it, Jongdae believed. 

 

But his other friends hadn't deserved to be yelled at. As they said, they were only trying to make sure he was okay. Even if they had the tendency to coddle him, it was only because they cared. He'd have to apologize to them next time they saw each other, if they even wanted to talk to him. 

 

“You shouldn't have.” Jongdae muttered, eyes shifting to look back out the window. “You don't know the situation.” 

 

“So?” Came Minseok’s curt reply. Jongdae could tell from the tightness in his voice that he was still angry. “He hurt you, I don't need to know anything else.”

 

Jongdae hoped Minseok couldn't see his reflection through the window. He didn't want the other to see the way his lip quivered when he smiled shakily, touched by the other’s words. 

 

Sometimes he wished Minseok didn't treat him so well, that he wasn't so nice. It would only make the problem worse, in the long run. 

 

“Thank you.” Jongdae whispered, sniffing and rubbing at his eyes quickly before looking back up at Minseok. 

 

“Don't mention it.” When Minseok smiled, it changed his face completely. He suddenly went from sharp lines and frightening features to wide eyes and lopsided lips. It would be strange if it wasn't so cute. 

 

Jongdae shook his head slightly, trying to push any thoughts of Minseok being cute out of his mind. 

 

A guard passed by the door, causing them to fall into silence for another few moments. The more they postponed the inevitable conversation, the more nervous Jongdae became. 

 

“Can I sit?” Minseok requested when the guard was out of earshot, hand gesturing vaguely towards Jongdae’s bed. 

 

Another reason Jongdae kind of hated Minseok: he fully accepted his personal space without question. He'd quickly learned Jongdae panicked whenever someone touched him, and picked up that his bed was his safe space. Even when he asked to sit down, he did so without making Jongdae feel guilty or strange. 

 

He wanted to hate Minseok for being so accepting, but he couldn't bring himself to it. Instead, he opted to hate himself for exploiting Minseok’s kindness. 

 

Slowly, Jongdae nodded, scooting over slightly to let the other sit. When Minseok sat down closer than last time he didn't mention it, and surprisingly didn't tense up at the proximity. 

 

For awhile, they just sat there together without speaking. They would watch outside, or look around their plain bedroom, but didn't talk or move any closer. 

 

Eventually, after watching the streets became far too boring, Minseok broke the silence finally and Jongdae knew what was coming. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” If Minseok wanted Jongdae to answer that honestly he must be stupid. Of course he didn't want to talk about, but he knew that he had to. He'd put this talk off long enough. 

 

“I guess…” He mumbled, fingers wringing together on his lap. His mind started to race, trying desperately to scrounge up an adequate explanation for the other. 

 

Minseok’s shoulders were tensed where they pressed against the window, eyebrows pulled together. “Jongdae, I… What does that word mean…? The one Baekhyun used.” 

 

He'd known that would be the first question. Ever since that afternoon, the incident at the factory, he'd known.

 

“It…” Jongdae bit at his lip, eyebrows furrowing. Visions of blood and pain flashed behind his eyes, that word ringing in his ears. “It's what p-people here call Amentians that…. It's what they call people that have… relations with people of different planetary descent. Calling someone that is like someone calling you a Runt. People don't particularly like interspecies relationships here.” 

 

Jongdae fell silent after his explanation, shifting awkwardly where he sat. He didn't like talking about his people to Minseok, especially about things like this. It just made him more ashamed of who he was. 

 

“I see…” Minseok murmured, eyes trained down on his legs. Jongdae could tell he was trying to tread carefully, cautious in fear of hurting him. It wasn't like he could ask him anything he hadn't heard before. “What is… this incident? You don't have to tell me if you don't want.” 

 

While Jongdae appreciated Minseok’s assurance, he knew that he had to tell the story sooner or later. If he didn't, he was sure Minseok would hear it from someone else. At least if he was telling it, he could tell the full, true story. 

 

“It's not a pretty story.” Jongdae started, staring down at their legs. If he shifted his leg just slightly it would press against the other’s. It was the closest they'd been to each other since the first night they met. 

 

Minseok’s response came a beat later, “If doesn't have to be pretty, that's okay.” Came the quiet assurance, followed by a hesitant, “If you tell me… I'll tell why I look like this.”

 

It was a vague statement, but it didn't take a genius to find out what Minseok meant. “I already told you, you don't need to tell me-” 

 

“I know I don't need to tell you. And I know it doesn't really matter, but I want you to know.” Minseok cut him off gently. “You're my friend, you deserve to know.” 

 

Jongdae kind of hated Minseok again; for calling him his friend, for making him feel special when he was not, for making his cheeks tint red. 

 

“Okay… I'll tell you. But only because I want to, not to make you tell me your story.” Jongdae made sure to make this clear, he wanted things to be fair. 

 

Minseok’s quiet laugh traveled down through Jongdae’s chest, gradually soothing the tension there. “Okay, that's fine.” He reassured him with a nod and a gentle smile. 

 

Jongdae took a deep breath, eyes closing momentarily. An ache settled in his stomach when he just remembered the story, let alone telling it. He couldn't help but fear that Minseok would treat him differently after hearing it. 

 

“If I tell you…” Jongdae began, trailing off when he realized he didn't know what he was asking for. His eyes trailed down to their legs where their hands sat. Jongdae told himself that if he could get over this barrier, he could overcome another. “Can I… Can I hold your hand?” 

 

Jongdae tensed when the mumbled request left his lips, preparing himself for an outburst. He knew that Minseok wouldn't hurt him, but something inside of him couldn't help but fear the other turning on him. It had happened before, what was stopping it from happening again?

 

Instead of violence, Jongdae was met with complete acceptance and openness from Minseok as usual. He had to remind himself to not get too used to it. 

 

Minseok, of course, looked surprised by the request; eyebrows raised high and mouth hanging open slightly. But despite his surprise, he was soon nodding, “yeah, of course,” and stretching his hand out towards him slightly. 

 

Jongdae looked down at the outstretched hand, eyes tracing over Minseok’s rough skin. Even now, he was being so respectful of his boundaries by not initiating the contact. 

 

Hesitantly, Jongdae’s hand shifted from his lap, slowly inching towards Minseok’s. 

 

When Minseok’s fingers touched is, the first thing Jongdae could think was how hot his skin was. It made sense; Minseok had explained that since their planet was so cold his people had evolved to generate excess body heat. When their palms slid together, Jongdae briefly considered asking Minseok to sleep next to him at night so he wouldn't have to feel the cold room. 

 

He could admit, he didn't initially like the touching. His body still tensed at the contact, having to manually calm himself down and remind himself that Minseok wasn't a threat. 

 

When Minseok’s fingers curled around the back of his hand and he could finally breathe easy, he began to talk. 

 

“I suppose I'll just, start from the beginning…. I came to this Compound when I was only seven. I was completely alone, most people don't move into Compounds until they're at least twelve. The reason for that is… a story for another day.” 

 

Minseok nodded patiently, not forcing him to elaborate. Jongdae continued. 

 

“Well, after awhile I met this boy, he was my age, and even more lonely than I was. He was a Paris’sian, from the planet Allones. Their people have never been very friendly with ours, and he was an orphan, so no one was jumping to befriend him.” 

 

“What was his name?” Minseok questioned curiously, fully rapt in the story despite Jongdae’s subpar storytelling skills. 

 

Jongdae smiled nostalgically, “Lor’sant. It took me a good half a ring cycle to pronounce it right, he used to make fun of me so much.” He hummed, fond memories sparking in his mind. 

 

Minseok's warm smile was accompanied by a brush of his thumb across Jongdae’s. “What was he like?” 

 

“Honestly? When we first met, he was kind of an asshole for a seven year old.” Jongdae smiled sweetly. “He was still hurt by the death of his parents, and he felt so alone and attacked in this world. Fortunately, I was a lot more assertive back then, and I basically forced him to become my friend.

 

“After that, we were inseparable. The entire time we were growing up, it was impossible to see us apart. We worked in the factory together then, and although we weren't roommates we snuck out to see each other all the time.” Jongdae smiled gently at the memories, knowing in hindsight that they should have been more careful. 

 

“As we grew up, he started to change. When we were kids he was mean and cynical, always thinking the world was out to get him. To be fair, it was. But when we grew into teenagers and the painful memories of his childhood faded, he turned into someone I could actually like. He was strong, and intelligent, and kind.”  _ He reminds me of you _ , Jongdae wanted to say. 

 

Minseok listened to him patiently as Jongdae was more hesitant to explain the next part of the story. 

 

“So, I started to develop… feelings.” Jongdae explained awkwardly. “I didn't want to. I knew that no one would ever accept us, what with him being from Allones. And, you know, a boy. But it's not like I could control it, of course. 

 

“We started ‘dating’ when we were fifteen. I suppose it can't really be called dating, we never went out on any dates, but we, you know, kissed sometimes and stuff.” Jongdae whispered under his breath, wishing he could just stop talking. He didn't like talking about it, more out of fear of judgement than anything else.

 

Still, Minseok just listened patiently, squeezing his hand. Jongdae realized this was the first time he'd held someone's hand since Lor’sant. 

 

Reluctantly, Jongdae continued. “Being with him was… amazing.” He confessed. “He made me happier than I'd ever been, we didn't care about what others would think if they found out.”  _ We should have _ , Jongdae thought. “He was the first and only person I'd loved in a long time. We were together for over two years before we… got caught.” Jongdae finished solemnly. 

 

Minseok’s fingers wrapped tighter around his, Jongdae’s hand squeezing his consciously. The younger man’s face scrunched up in pain, memories flashing behind his eyes. He realized that he'd never fully told this story, everyone just knew it from rumors. 

 

“It was the night before the Day of the Ring Folly, the big holiday here, so I guess we were being careless… I had snuck into his room and we… we were doing things and… a guard caught us.” Jongdae sucked in a deep breath, gathering the strength to continue. 

 

“He dragged us to a-a room somewhere. I-I-I don't know where it was, in the basement maybe… The guard started to ask all kinds of questions, disgusting questions. I can still remember the sick grin he had when asking them, like we'd just made his day.” 

 

Looking up at the ceiling, Jongdae continued with a strong grip on Minseok’s hand. “Well, after awhile asking us questions stopped being fun for him, so he restrained me, and then he started to beat Lor’sant.”

 

Minseok’s other hand reached across to grace lightly against Jongdae's thin fingers. “You don't have to keep going.” He murmured, hesitant. 

 

Jongdae glanced over at Minseok, eyes tracing his face. Lor’sant’s perpetually soft eyes and strong hands appeared in his mind. 

 

“No… I want you to know.” His voice shook, sucking in a harsh breath before he began to explain the most painful part of the story. 

 

“He made me watch, watch the only person I loved be beaten close to death. My throat hurt for days after from screaming and crying.” Jongdae couldn't remember the last time he'd made himself this vulnerable. “He must have hit him a million times, beating him down just because I fucking kissed him.” Jongdae cursed, angry tears falling down pallid cheeks. 

 

“If you think the things people have called me and you are bad, you can't imagine how this man talked to him. A-And when his arm got tired from beating him so many times, he took out a knife and started to-to stab him anywhere he could.”

 

A sob got caught in Jongdae’s throat, his hand tightening again. “Lor’sant’s last words were telling me not to worry, that he'd be okay. He told me he loved me for the last time, and then the guard sunk the knife into his heart.” 

 

Jongdae finally broke down, choked sobs bursting from his chest. His free hand flung up to clasp over his mouth, hoping the guards couldn't hear his pained cries. 

 

Minseok's hands tightened around his, trying to comfort him through the small gesture. Absently, Jongdae was thankful that he didn't try to establish any more physical contact. He didn't think he'd be able to overcome that hurdle so early. 

 

When Jongdae continued, his voice was still shaking and wracked with the occasional broken sob. “The g-guard then unrestrained me, and he dragged me to where my boyfriend’s fucking corpse was. The ground was covered in his blood, dark green covering the cement. 

 

“Th-then the guard took the knife he'd used on Lor’sant and cut open my palm.” Jongdae showed Minseok the deep scar running across his left hand. “He made my blood drip into Lor’sant’s, red mixing with green.”

 

There were still nights that Jongdae was kept awake, remembering the image of their blood mixing together. 

 

“He kicked me to the ground, and shoved my face into our blood like I was a  _ fucking dog _ . He said this was what filthy Gruffers got. It's what I deserved for sucking Runt cock.” Jongdae’s nose scrunched up, still disgusted by the guard’s words. 

 

Minseok tenderly laced their fingers together, looking at him directly. “He's wrong, you know? You didn't deserve any of that, and neither did Lor’sant.” 

 

Jongdae nodded quickly, sniffing and rubbing at his face roughly. “I-I know. I try to make myself remember that, but it's hard sometimes.” 

 

Minseok nodded, “That's okay. It's okay to still be hurt, you know. Time doesn't heal all wounds.”

 

Minseok was so fucking understanding, it almost made Jongdae’s head hurt. Were all non-Amentians so kind? 

 

No, he'd met plenty of mean off-planeters before. It was just Minseok, he guessed. 

 

“Th-Thank you.” Jongdae murmured. “For listening, and for not hating me after hearing that story. Even my friends don't like to acknowledge it happened, they don't want to think about their friend being one of those people.” 

 

When Jongdae looked back at Minseok, he almost looked angry. “Why would they think that, they're suppose to be your friends. Now I want to punch Baekhyun even more.” His accent became so much more noticeable when he got angry. 

 

Jongdae smiled sadly, fingers gracing lightly across Minseok’s forearm. “Don't punch Baekhyun, please. I don't want to ruin the peace in our group anymore than I already have.” 

 

“Does it really count as peace when justice is not present?” Minseok challenged him. 

 

Another sad smile, “You come from a world where you're allowed to ask those kinds of questions. I'm not so lucky.” 

 

“One day you will be, I swear it.” 

 

“Don't make promises you can't keep.” Jongdae responded just as the lights turned off. 

 

Minseok let the subject fall, most likely knowing Jongdae wouldn't let him speak of it anymore. Still, Jongdae knew the subject wouldn't leave Minseok’s head anytime soon. He was stubborn like that. 

 

“Hey… Can we talk more tomorrow night? About… your stuff. I still want to listen, if you want to tell me, I'm just really tired.” Jongdae smiled softly, looking over at Minseok. 

 

The light coming in from outside cast colorful shadows across Minseok’s profile, making his features even more arcane. And yet Jongdae could only see the softness there. 

 

“Of course. I understand, and I'd still like to tell you.” Minseok smiled in return, tightening his fingers for a moment before retracting them altogether. 

 

After years of fearing all physical contact, Jongdae never thought he could miss someone’s skin pressed against his own. 

 

He watched Minseok stand, his absence leaving an empty, cold space on Jongdae’s bed. He already felt more lonely than before, and Minseok was only a step away. 

 

The other man walked towards his own bed, sitting down on the hard mattress. Slowly, Jongdae laid down, feeling the residual heat from where Minseok had been sat. 

 

“Hey, Jongdae…” Minseok mumbled a beat later, his voice echoing around the silent room. 

 

When they were sat next to one another everything felt so much quieter, more intimate. 

 

“Yeah?”

 

Minseok didn't respond for a moment, seemingly considering his thoughts deeply before voicing them. “Thank you, for telling me. I know it was hard for you, and I know you were scared of how I would react, but you did anyways. It means a lot to me, that you trust me that much.” He whispered earnestly, the words striking Jongdae. “You're a lot stronger than people think, than you think. Don't let what they say get to you, you're worth more than that.” 

 

Jongdae’s hands twisted in his blanket, eyes welling up against his will. A slow smile spread across his face, turning into a full grin accompanied by a deep blush. Cold tears hit the mattress, this time out of happiness rather than pain. 

 

“Thank you, Minsek. I… Thank you.” He whispered, voice thick from his tears and words colored by his smile. 

 

That night he fell asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in years. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is appreciated!


	4. An Unfortunate End

First and foremost, I’d like to thank each and every one of you that has read this work. The amount of love and support I have gotten throughout writing it has been unbelievable. I’ll never be able to repay any of you for that.

This brings me to my next point: an apology. As I’m sure many have noticed, this fic has not been updated in a very long time. Unfortunately, I am no longer in the exo fandom, so I haven’t been able to complete this work or any of my other unfinished pieces. I am very sorry, but I will not be continuing this piece despite the consistent support and asking for future chapters. While I love these works dearly still, I can’t find it in me to complete something I have no passion for; it’s not fair to the work or to y’all. Once again, I am sorry. 

With that being said, I will say that I am open to passing this work, or any of my others, onto another writer if I believe they will meet its full potential. Despite not being able to complete these pieces, I do want the best for my work and readers, so if anyone would like to continue this fic I’d be glad to consider it and add you as a co-writer. If you are interested, dm me on twitter @magskeeto.

Even if this work cannot be finished by another writer, I hope you have all enjoyed the story that has been created so far, and I truly am sorry that I won’t be able to complete it. With that, I’ll kindly ask that readers stop posting comments when I will be updating, as that is what this message aims to address. 

As always, thank you for reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to air your grievances towards me in the comments or on twit :)

**Author's Note:**

> My only sense of validation comes in the form of your comments, tell me what you thought!!


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